Lost Again

Lost Again

I seem to live in a perpetual state of being lost. If I am traveling to a new place I will discover many new and often exciting things on the way. Places and things that I should never have seen. It comes from being lost. I always leave so that I have about an hour to be and recover from being lost. Most times this is enough to allow me to arrive at my true destination on time. But there are those other times when things just don’t work out in my favor.

I also always carry a well charged cell phone and have a cell phone charger in my van so I can call whomever I am going to meet for specific directions from wherever it is I currently am to wherever it is I am supposed to be. Calling to find out where I go from where I am has become such a normal part of my life I just dial the number, ask for whomever it is I am meeting and then laugh it off.

One time I was actually able to follow the directions given to me and find my intended destination without the inevitable detour to being lost. I made my well received presentation and headed back with some of my directional confidence restored. I’ve learned I should never get confident. I misread the signs to Interstate 65. I found myself headed north towards Montgomery. I should have been going south. I was on some 4 lane divided highway. I should have been on Interstate 65. I should have been on my way home. I was lost instead.

The other problem I have with lost is that I’ve lost more things than I can remember. You could say that I’ve lost the list of what I’ve lost. If it is not attached or permanently affixed to me, I’ve probably lost it. Some of the things I’ve lost I eventually find. Most remain lost forever.

I am currently lost in Tampa, Florida. To be specific I traveled to Tampa to attend a conference. I have spent a great deal of time here looking for lost things. I’ve been here 2 hours. Me even being in Tampa was in question for a time due to my lost proof of identity. The airlines now require a good ID card with a picture of you on it before you can go through security to board the plane. Most people use their driver license as proof of who they are. I would, but the airline won’t accept my driver license. They think it may be fake or forged. And to be completely honest the photo on the license does not really look like me. It is 2008. The photo was taken when the license was issued in 1986. The newer driver licenses have holographs and are well sealed. Mine looks like it was run through a very poor imitation of a laminating machine. But it’s not my fault. The state keeps sending me stickers to put on the back showing a new expiration date 6 years in the future. I must admit with all these stickers the license is getting a bit thick, but I am a busy woman. I’ll keep doing this until they stop sending stickers.

Now I use my military ID to clear airport security. I always have it in my hand, ready to give them along with my boarding pass. I couldn’t find the military ID when I got to the airport for this trip. I last remember using it two weeks ago when I flew to Orlando and back. Racking my brain I could only guess that when I used it at the Orlando airport to board my flight home I put it in the pocked of either my jacket or pants. I made it through security in Pensacola, but a more pressing concern is can I clear security here in Tampa and make it back to Pensacola? Or, will I be held hostage by Tampa Airport Security until I can prove I am me?

As soon as I got to my room here in Tampa I dumped the contents of my purse on to the bed. There were ticket stubs, ink pens, note books, wallets, makeup, 7 tubes of lipstick, receipts, scraps of paper, the wire to connect my Blackberry to my computer, nail files, and lip gloss. Mirrors, combs, contact lenses, and an envelope of money I got from the bank the day before I left on this trip. There was no military ID. I gave up and decided it was in one of my pockets and I would find it if I make it back to Pensacola.

I figured it was time to go downstairs to get a coke and something to eat. Making sure I had everything I needed, my purse, my sunglasses, my room key. Arrrrrghhhhh! No room key. I look on every piece of furniture. No key. I look in every bag I brought. No key. I look in the trash can. No key. I called the front desk. No problem they said. Come by with a photo ID and they will issue a new room key to me. This gives a whole new meaning to being lost. Or should I say being held hostage. I can’t leave the room and get back in without a key. I can’t get a new key without a photo ID. I can’t leave Tampa. I can’t….

I decide I’ll just sit here and write in my notebook about my perpetual state of being lost. When I open my ever present notebook the room key fell out. I grab it and head downstairs for a coke. When I reach in my purse to get the money to pay for the coke, I find my ID. I used it at the bank to get the money for this trip. I guess I am no longer lost. Maybe I’m not even a hostage in Tampa. Perhaps my luck is changing. Now if I were just home I could use my new found luck to locate my mind.

Wanda M. Argersinger